


if you need to, keep time on me

by SyntheticRevenge



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Feelings Realization, Other, Post-Episode 59, Sad Immortals Love Each Other: More At 10, Sort Of, this is soft....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24049195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticRevenge/pseuds/SyntheticRevenge
Summary: “You’ve always been there, annoying the fuck out of me,” Gable says, eyes soft. They lean across the table and put their hand over his.“The feeling is deeply, truly mutual,” Travis says, squeezing their hand tightly.
Relationships: Gable/Travis Matagot
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	if you need to, keep time on me

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 59 kicked me in the FUCKING. TEETH. Johnny and Liz owe me damages. I had to write this for myself in order to cope lol. Hope y'all enjoy it.  
> (Title's a Fleet Foxes song on my trable playlist lol)

The stars fell, the waters rose, the seasons went wild, and then Gable was there in Travis’s life, so long ago that it was still William’s life. Everything was ending, overwhelming, changing so quickly nothing made sense--but there they were, in the middle of it all. Huge, radiant, unforgettable.

He bet his mortality on a game of Illimat, and there they were. Nearly died in jail, guess who was in the next cell? Let the only mortal he ever made the mistake of loving wholeheartedly drown to save himself, and still, at the end of it, there was Gable. Unchanged. The same amount of irritation with him as they always have, even when he hated himself with a sickening passion.

And now, still, here they are. He changes, becomes a new person every day (in body, if nothing else), and they’ve stayed exactly the same for two hundred years. A focal point, to keep a grip on how fast the world seems to change around them. He can always steady himself on Gable.

Except now everything feels like it’s collapsing. Like the stars are falling again. He’s dizzy with the thought of being human again, being--well,  _ free. _ Free of immortality. Free to die. Free of  _ her _ , always watching, always reminding him that she owns him. 

And Gable can be free of him. He tries to frame it like that, at first, but Margaret’s opened some shitty awful geyser of genuine emotion up in him and he can’t force it down fast enough. Gable will be alone,  _ completely _ alone, and it’ll be his fault.

They’ve kept him alive. Kept him sane. Even in their long periods of time apart, he would think of them occasionally, out there somewhere, doing something big and dumb, and it would comfort him. He likes to think that maybe they thought of him the same way. 

He doesn’t want to leave them. He knows he wouldn’t want to live in a Gable-less world, and maybe he’s thinking too highly of himself by imagining they feel the same about him, but--then they have The Conversation, and he’s dreading it so much he wants to vomit, and that urge doesn’t go away when they promise that they’ll figure out how to die too, if he chooses this.

They drink in uncomfortable silence. Travis can’t shake the feeling that he’s just shattered both of their lives completely, and the guilt is heavy in his stomach, so heavy he can’t brush it away with a shitty comment and a smirk.

“I really don’t have to do it,” Travis says, finally. He has to clear his throat to get the words all the way out. “I mean, I  _ like _ being a bird. Who wouldn’t, right?”

“I don’t think I would,” Gable says, shrugging, giving Travis their Genuine Contemplation Look, which probably means that Travis should stop reflexively pouring them shots. “All that flapping. So much  _ effort _ .”

“Okay, but being a  _ snake _ , though,” Travis says, cocking his head like he’s made an actual point. “You can just slither around scaring people  _ and _ you make a pretty fancy accessory.”

“You  _ hate _ not having arms.”

Travis growls in frustration. “ _ Fine _ .”

“Look, Travis,” Gable says, and then they sigh, shaking their head a little. “I won’t lie to you.”

“Oh,  _ please _ do, I’m...all the honesty is starting to get to me. It’s unnatural. I think it’s poisoning me.”

“I can’t imagine being without you,” Gable says, and Travis’s breath catches in his throat. Whether or not he knew it was true, he didn’t really want to  _ hear _ it. It feels like a gutpunch with a knife. 

“Gable…” he says, softly. He doesn’t have anything else to say to that. There aren’t words for the maelstrom of aching and stabbing pain in his chest. 

“You’ve always been there, annoying the fuck out of me,” Gable says, eyes soft. They lean across the table and put their hand over his. 

“The feeling is deeply, truly mutual,” Travis says, squeezing their hand tightly, not wanting to let go, wanting to tell them--well, he has to figure out exactly what he feels before he can tell them.

Thankfully, Gable sort of steals his thunder. They choke out a quiet “I don’t actually hate you, you  _ bastard, _ ” and Travis holds their hand tighter, throat swelling shut with...love, alright, yes, maybe it’s love.

“I know,” Travis says, nodding, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t hate you either.”

“You deserve to have a normal life.”

“I don’t,” Travis says, laughing, and then he can’t stop himself laughing. He lets go of Gable’s hand to cover his mouth, and he feels tears burning his eyes. He’s such a fucking  _ mess _ . “I don’t deserve anything.”

“You do,” Gable says, softly, insistently. “You’re the absolute fucking worst, but you’re...you’re  _ my _ absolute fucking worst, and you deserve to live. So shut up.”

“You deserve it more than me,” Travis says, sniffing hard, wiping a tear away with a thumb. “Angel and all.”

“I’ve done--”

“I don’t care what you’ve done.” 

“Well, I don’t care what  _ you’ve  _ done,” Gable says, petulantly, crossing their arms. “So there.”

“Fair enough,” Travis says. He sighs, tries to get himself to calm down. “Just--do you  _ want  _ me to break the curse?”

“No,” Gable says. “Of course I don’t. I want you--I want you to be happy, I want you to do what you want to do, but if you’re asking  _ me _ , no.”

“Is this reverse psychology? Are you trying to make me abandon you out of spite?” Travis asks, almost smiling. 

“Damn. You got me.”

“If--if you really don’t want me to, I won’t,” Travis says, swallowing hard. “You--you’re more important.”

“I’m not letting you give this up for me if it’s what you really want,” Gable says, firmly. 

“I don’t know,” Travis says, sighing. “I don’t know, Gable, this is so  _ much _ .”

“I know. We’ll figure it out.”

Travis can’t find any more words, they’re all getting stuck in his throat, the way they always do, and he feels something petty and mean forming on his tongue, hot and foul-tasting, like always. So he doesn’t say anything, just leans over the table and kisses them. They put their hand on the back of his head and hold him there, hand tangling in his hair. 

He pulls back for air, and they keep their forehead rested against his. 

“It’s gonna be alright,” they say, and he nods, eyes welling again. “Whatever happens.”

“Promise?” Travis whispers, choked up.

“Promise.”

“That’s an  _ angel _ promise, you can’t break those.”

“Shut up,” Gable says, rolling their eyes, and Travis kisses them again, enthusiastically and tactlessly enough that their noses slam into each other. 

“I’m glad I found you,” Travis says, softly.

“You can’t make trying to loot my body romantic.”

“I can  _ try _ .”

“Please don’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3  
> I'm on tumblr at witnesstotheend if you wanna say hi:)


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